The Mad Marksman.

Auckland Star, Volume XXVI, Issue 5465, 24 January 1885, Page 5

The Mad Marksman.

I had just taken a turn, in company with Doctor Noirot, through the vast gardens that, surrounded his hospital, ami wjir advancing with him towards the entrance of hia own special dwelling. The celebrated physician, whoso particular field was insanity, was explaining to me the case of one of his patients whom we had met in an alley, and who had saluted us with a patronising air. At that moment an explosion resounded a few paces from us. I grasped my host's arm.

" What's that?" I asked. "Has ono of your patients shot himself f' Doctor Noirot smiled.

"No," eaid he. "Reassure yourself. It's still ano.ther very peculiar case I want you to see." And turning obliquely to the left,he drew mo toward a small pavilion hidden behind a grove of trees. He unlocked the door, lea me across tho narrow vestibule, and we found ourselves in a sort of long court surrounded by walls. A man was there, of lofty stature, clad in a strange hunting costume. He had his back against ttre wall of the pavilion, aud at tho moment wo entered raised his right hand, armed with a pistol. Our arrival did not disturb him. He aimed slowly with a sure hand. I followed the direction of the weapon, and saw at about twenty paces distant, at the foot of the opposite wall, a white face, with a dark hole in the centre of the forehead. It was, as well as 1 could judge at that distance, the plaster mask of a Greok head, in which I thought I recognised the classic type of Diana the huntress. The pistol was discharged. Tho heap did not move, and not oven a fragment flew from it.

"Look I" said the doctor to me in a low voice. "It's very curious. Ho never misses his mark."

" No. All tho balls are lodged in tho eamo placo, in that dark hole, smaller than a sixpenny piece." Tho man had drawn another pistol from his belt. He fired. As before, the mask remained intact. The weapon being loaded with several balls, the marksman successively discharged five more balls, Not one of them cut tho forehead of the white face.

The doctor laid his hands upon the shoulder of tho marksman, who wheeled about. His visage, though enframed by a strong beard, had an expression at onco onergotic and sad. " Stop or instant, pleoso," Baid the doctor to him.

Tho man made a sign of consent with his head. Then the doctor led me to tho other end of the court, and behind the plaster mask showed mo a plate of blackened iron that protected the wall. In the centre of the plate a round spot glistened with reflection of lead produced by tho flattening of the balls.

"You see," said ho, showing me the exact correspondence of the brilliant spot with the hole that pierced the plaster mask, "you soo that all tho balls pass through there.' You will not find ono of thorn elsewhere."

"It is marvellous," answered I. "But what strange history is associated with this man 1"

"Come," said the doctor to me, "I will tell you on the outside." We again crossed the court and the vestibule of the pavilion. And this is what Doctor Noirot told me, while behind us the detonations commonced. with regular intervaU betweon them.

"This unfortunate man/ said my host, "calls himielf Guido Vontgwa. Is he an Italian, a Spaniard, or Ainoriuiu? That's what we don't exactly know. Probably ho fa an American, for it is the New World that particularly sends these virtuosos of the revolver and rifle.

"Guido Ventura, when ho came to Paris, was accompaniod by a young woman named Miss Arabella. She was a superb creature, scarcely twenty years of ago, with tho head of a goddess and the figure of a statue. Admirers wore not lacking, and in less than a weok it became the fashion to go to see tho splendid Miss Arabella aid in bis exercises the celebrated marksman, Guido Ventura. She stood proudly, her arms folded, her visage impassable, fifteen paces from Guido Ventura, who directed upon her the vain menace of his pistol, the infallihlo ball of which cut a card potween her fingers, broke the bowl of a pipe two inches from her lips, and crushed the shell of a nut on her head.

A slight trembling of the marksman's hand,and all would have beon over with the supurb Arabella. But the hand of Guido Ventura never trombled.

"Evidently Guido Ventura loved his creature like an idol. To bo convinced of it, it sufficed to surprise one of those glances that shot from his oyes each time when in the foyer of tho theatre, whore he was awaiting his turn to go upon the stage, when some gallant was unusually attentive to tho handsome girl. Was he jealous also? Certainly. And he must have suffered atrociously.for his companion, so coquettish and beautiful, seemed to dolight in exasperating his jealousy. "On one occasion tho manager of the Alcazar d'Automme stopped hor in the winga as sho was escaping with a laugh from a circle of -vine-excited coxcombs.

" 'See here, my little one,' he whispered in hor ear, 'you had bettor take caro. Every evening that man holds your lifo at his mercy!' " Arabella burst out laughing. " ' Ho kill me !' cried she, shrugging hor shoulders. ' Got along with you, he thinks too much of mo to harm a hair of my head !'

"And ovory night sho stood before the muzzle of the pistol with the same tranquillity, fascinating tho rebellion of her lovor, as the eye of tho tamer fascinates that of a wild beast.

" One ovening, when the name of Guido Ventura and that of Arabella had been shining scarcely a week upon tho bills of the Alcazar d'Autommo, a gontleman of fine appoarance entered the foyer, went straight to woman, who uttered a slight cry of surprise, and, taking her hands, kissed the tips of her fingers. Guido Ventura, who had beon talking with tho manager, turned and suddenly grow vory pale. The man who had just entered waa a rich Yankee, whoso attentions to Miss Arabella had made Bomo noise in Now York. It was because of him particularly that tho marksman had made his engagement in Paris and hastened his departure from Amorica. But this man now had taken a notion to follow them, for it was on aocount of Arabella that ho had oomo to Paris. As soon as he ascertained where she had gone, ho had taken passage on the next steamer. That night, as sho was returning to her dressing-room, Guido Ventura made a terrible sceno with his companion. " But the most terrible scene took placo some nights later. For a week the American had hung about Arabella's footsteps. Guido Vontura had striven to exact that the managor of the Alcazar d'Autommo should prohibit him from entering the coulisse. But, having made his way into the managerial office with his hat in his hand, tho American emerged rattling his wallet back into his pocket, and there was no longer question of his exile. 11 That night when Arabella waa preparing to assume her page's dress for the performance, Guido Ventura saw n paper fall from her corsage. He picked it up and read it. It was a love lotter, proposing to the young girl an elopement 1 and marriage the next day. When he came down into the foyer the marksman had knitted browa and a quivering lip. He | took a pistol and aimed at his own image in mirror, and his own hand did not tremble. " Five minutes afterwards he was on the stage, commencing his exercises. As he turned, he saw behind him in the coulisse the American leaning against a flap. Just at that instant M,iss Arabella planted herself in front 6f him, her arms folded, her nutshell placed upon her head. She smiled. On whom was she smiling? On the man who vas there behind them. Guido Ventura saw it dearly from the direction of her glance I Suddenly, h.6r eyes having moved, she eoased to smile, and a shadow pas3ed aoross her visage Standing before her, Guido Ventura took aim full at her forehead. The report rang out, and, Miss Arabella fell dead upon tlje boards. "When they tore from his arms tha corpse that he had desperately clasped to his bosom, Guido Ventura was a madman. ' " Was it a crime ? Was it an accident? They thought only of stifling the affair. In Paris the dead are speedily out of mind. The first excitement over, people forgot the two hero'o» of this bloody -drama. " Since that Guido Ventua has been here in m/ establishment, passing half his days aiming at "his plaster mask. Once he ch'ahcedto break it and for a week afterwards' he was delirious. But he is inoffensive as yon can see.". ' We returned to the pavilipn and found; the marksman loading his weapons. "Not a snot m'isseoVtne mark! eh?" said; the doctor to him, in an affable.'tone/ _ The'man'raised 'his heatf/and, pointing with 'Ms finger 'to " tlje' plaster mask, lahWereot in a follow voice— "Not one ! Always in the centre of tho forehead!"